Safe & Sound
by junbug24
Summary: Peeta's sudden death makes Katniss uneasy. She lost the love of her life and it's hard to say goodbye. Will anything make her alright again?


I bury my face in my hands. The shock of Peeta's death waves over me again and I start to cry. Not even the comfort of my own children make me feel at ease. Their hugs and "I miss him too"s echo, but have little effect.

Tara, my daughter, is 26 years old and is so much like her father. She's married now to a wonder man that I'm honored to have as my son-in-law. Tara is also twenty weeks pregnant and just as scared I was. Every time the child stirs inside of her, I remind her to count the good, small things. She recites a list out loud and I write it down so she will always remember.

Jamie, my son, is 22 years old now. A young man who is like me in too many ways. He lives in District 2, where he's made friends with the Hawthornes: Gale, his wife, and their daughter.

Once the news of Peeta's death got to them, they were here in less than a day and sought me out immediately. It's been a day or two since then and Peeta needs a funeral. I requested it to be small; everyone else agreed. The funeral is this afternoon.

"Katniss?" Annie Odair's voice softly rings through the quiet bedroom and the rain pattering the windows outside. I'm curled up under the blankets, hugging Peeta's pillow tight around my middle. "Oh, Katniss." She taps on my shoulder and I shudder a breath, collecting myself.

"Yes?" I whisper.

The bed shifts as Annie sits on the edge. She sighs. "You're going to have to say goodbye sooner or later."

I peak my head above the covers to see that Annie, thin and frail, has dressed in a long, black dress for the occasion, contrasting with the mixture of silver and brown hairs resting on the top of her head. Her eyes are as green as ever, though sadness clouds them. Her expression is oddly understanding. Of course. She's already been through this many years ago - with Finnick.

I sit up with my back to the headboard and tuck my knees close to my chest, looking at her quizzically. My hair is in a ratty mess from the days I've never combed it and falls over my eyes. "How-," I cough. "How do you do it, Annie? How are you able to still be happy when Finnick's life was taken away from you?"

She gives a knowing frown and studies the floor. "I don't." I furrow my brow and Annie continues. "There are days when it either gets easier or even worse, but all in all, there's always going to be an empty void in your life that only Peeta could fill. But also, Katniss, you must remember that part of being in love is risking to one day say goodbye."

"But what then?" I ask. "After you say goodbye?"

"Part of being happy is remembering the good things and never letting go of those memories. Acts of goodness." says Annie. Tears spring from the corners of my eyes and she pats my leg. "The funeral is starting in an hour," she says. "It's best that you be there a little early. Good luck." Annie stands up and slowly leaves. My eyes follow every step she takes. The rebellion has permanently worn her down as much as it has me. A sagged face and a tiresome slouch only defines as you grow old. No, we were tiresome as soon as we were out of our Games.

Annie takes hold of the door frame and locks her eyes on mine. She smiles softly and gives me a slight nod before exiting, shutting the door behind her. The list repeats itself over and over in my head.

"One," I recite. "I have two beautiful children." I stand up carefully and ready myself. "Two: The meadow has grown back again."

I splash water in my face and look in the mirror, seeing my eyes are horribly red. "Three," I continue. "There are no more Hunger Games."

The rain has stopped outside and a rainbow emerges from the sunlight. "Four: I married the love of my life."

I slip on a flowing silver and black dress Peeta bought me years ago. I am ready. I am not ready. I must be ready. I walk down the staircase and step outside in the humid air. "Five: he is safe and sound."

The funeral is taking place in the meadow. The grass is still wet from the rain, but the daisies still perk beautifully in the March weather. I escort myself quite a ways in the meadow to find several black folding chairs lined up in rows, a wooded podium in front of the seats, and a six foot trench big enough for the detailed white casket beside it. I stop in my tracks and close my eyes. _I have to do this, _I think. _Just breathe. _I take a deep breath and open my eyes. Yes, the casket is still there, but thankfully it's closed. Someone other than me must be here setting up for the event, but I don't see them. I take my seat in the very back row.

What seems like several minutes later, familiar faces start to arrive. Annie and her son, Noah, and his wife and their three boys. Each one of their faces catch me and become sad. The oldest boy asks to play in the meadow and the younger ones chime in. Noah and his wife agree and they skip off into the tall grass, away from the sadness. I wish I could go with them.

Next to come is my 80 year old mother, escorted by Tara, her husband, and Jamie. They all hug me and kiss me on the cheek, and I smile slightly. My family sits beside me and it makes me feel much more reassured. My mother sits right next to me and she shakily puts my hand in hers. "I know you loved him," she whispers. "And I know you still do, even now, but you must remember to stay strong. For him. The advice I never followed tore me down, and I do not want you to be like me. Remember. Okay, honey?"

I nod. "Sometimes I feel like I've already gone over the deep end - like the void of an overflow." She brings my hand up to her mouth and she kisses it gently. I've learned to feel sorry for her for when she lost my father.

Some of Peeta's co-workers take their seats as well. I don't know any of them very well, but they all loved Peeta, who used to work with them in political offices here in District 12. They're all wearing their best suits and are all talking in hushed voices. One of them, a strong, burly man, begins handing out programs.

The man hands me one and nods in sympathy. I nod in return and set my eyes on the paper in my fingertips. The front consists of beautiful black swirls on white cardstock and a recent picture of Peeta and me twirling and smiling as he holds me in his arms. The inside reads, "_Celebrating the Life of Peeta Mellark. Fall 2356 - Spring 2415. Taking place in the meadow of District 12, hosted by Mayor Bowen. Thank you for sharing your sympathy." _

"Thank you." That voice. Familiar, though worn down. I never thought he would come after so long, and it seems that he's brought his family, too. Gale is stockier now, more worn. His dark hair is turning grey and creases are on his face from laughter.

Jamie invited them to join, with my permission. I knew Gale wouldn't miss this for the world. He and Peeta became close through letters and packages that they sent to one another all throughout the years, and I'm glad. I need him here.

"Ahem," Jamie's voice startles me. "Mom, you should talk to him."

"I don't know, Jamie," I hesitate. I watch them walk up toward the front and take their seats. Gale doesn't look at me nor does his family, and I'm curious. Did he not recognize me? He must have. Does that mean he doesn't want to look me in the eye and face all of his problems? I decide to go with the latter. "He seems busy."

Jamie opens his mouth to speak but decides against it. He gazes at them for a minute before saying "I'm going to go talk to them."

I murmur an "Okay" as we walks off to greet them. I trace their smiles and embraces and every motion in between in my head and repeat it. Jamie points straight at me and Gale looks my way. We lock eyes on each other, and after all these years, it seems as though my hunting partner is still looking out for me.

The four of them - Gale, his wife, their daughter, and Jamie - exit the row and walk toward me. I stare at the ground until Gale's voice has me raise my head. "Katniss," he says.

"Gale," I reply.

"I know a sorry won't help, so I will say this: I'm glad you two had the time you had together. He lived a happy life with the love of his life, and that's what matters."

His words shock me, but I appreciate them. "Thank you," I say sincerely.

"It's too bad Haymitch is gone," he says. "I know Peeta was important to him."

I take a deep breath and shake my head. "No, it's best that Haymitch isn't here to see this." Haymitch died two years ago, only 5 months after he stopped drinking, but the alcohol eventually caught up to him and we all were burdened about our loss.

Gale nods. "I understand. You know, it's really nice to see you again, though I hate that it must be in this timing." He pauses. "Oh, and before I forget, this is my wife, Lyra. And this is my daughter, Daisy."

"It's an honor to meet you, Katniss. And I am so sorry for your loss," says Lyra gently, and we shake hands. She has short blond hair and big brown eyes. Daisy, who looks 20 years old close up, has her brown eyes, but Gale's dark hair.

"Same," I say.

"Well." Gale coughs, breaking silence. "We best get back to our seats."

"Gale, wait." I stop him urgently and he looks startled. "I'm sorry. For everything."

He smiles gently. "Me too, Catnip. Me too."

"Welcome, welcome," a voice greets over the microphone at the podium and I see the strong man who handed out the programs. "I'm Mayor Bowen. Thank you all for joining the celebration of Peeta Mellark's life. It was a tragic loss, and I give my greatest sympathy to his loved ones." He looks at me. "Peeta Mellark was a great man and knew how to work hard. I worked with him in the political offices here in twelve, and I couldn't be more thankful for him as a co-worker.

"I ask that those who want to say a few words about Mr. Mellark to step up and speak," continues Mayor Bowen. He scans the crowd of people and stops at me. He raises a brow, and I nod. I knew I was going to be asked to speak today, though I never prepared anything. I begin to stand until, suddenly, Gale stands up and walks to the front of the crowd.

"I knew Peeta ever since I was a young boy," he says. Gale looks at me when he says it, which makes me start to stutter out tears. "He was a hard guy to hate, and I'll never forget his sincerity, his passion, and his words that made a change in both my life and this nation. What happened to him was a mistake on Death's behalf, and, accident or no accident, he is gone. And we will miss him."

My lips quiver as I mouth "Thank you" to Gale. He gives me a sad look and sits back down quietly. It's what Gale said that brings me back to the day Peeta died.

It was an important day, a celebration really, in Panem's political office. We were contacted by a nation across the ocean, who called themselves the United Kingdom, asking to join forces by building train tracks across the water in exchange for information and other resources.

President Paylor herself called Peeta that morning, letting him know of the good news. He sat on the couch, rubbing his palms together, and I was startled, sitting down next to him. A new nation. No, a new nation wanting to give us various resources in exchange for land. I could hardly believe it. But was it worth it?

"Peeta, wait," I said, holding on to his forearm. "Do you really think saying yes to them is a good idea? I mean, we know nothing about them."

"Katniss," said Peeta, "think about it. A nation alive and well wanting to help us. It's an excellent idea."

"I don't know," I said warily. "Don't you think we should look into this more? I mean, this is a little unexpected."

"Darling, we need to trust President Paylor. Everything is going to be fine. I promise." He kissed me on the forehead and took my hand. We waltzed out the front door and danced to no music.

I laughed and rested my head on his shoulder while we swayed back and forth on the front lawn. 'Peeta," I breathed.

"Katniss," he replied.

I looked into his shining blue eyes. "I love you, and I trust you, but please: make sure you think things through." I paused. "Promise me that you will?"

He rests his forehead on mine. "Always," he whispered.

We swayed to a stop and he let go of my hands. "I'll be back by dinner. I love you, Katniss."

He stepped away and smiled, kissing me one last time, before stepping into the bright red car in our driveway. He turned the the key in the ignition and the engine started. I waved goodbye and so did he. I watched him ride down the road and turn left before whispering back "I love you, too."

I got the call an hour later. A car accident. Peeta had a rare attack caused by the Tracker Jacker venom and he drove off the road, rolling into a ditch. He died five minutes later, suffering. A jogger found him. He was only two blocks away from our house. From help. From me.

"Katniss?" Mayor Bowen asks. "Would you like to say a few words?"

I nod and slowly walk to the podium. I recite the list of goodness in my head. I think of Peeta and how we danced that day, how he promised me a better life. I think of my brokenness when I got the call about his death. I think of my children and my friends and all of our losses: the loss of a father, a co-worker, a son-in-law, a friend, and a husband - our dandelion losing its bright yellow color in the cold of winter wind.

"Um, hello," I say. I take hold of the podium and run my fingers across the sanded wood grain. "Thank you for coming today; it means a lot to me and my family. I never prepared anything. In fact, it's been hard to say goodbye to Peeta." I look to my left and find the detailed white casket enclosing Peeta. "I'm sorry, but can we open this?"

"Are you sure, Katniss?" Mayor Bowen asks, surprised at my request. "We shut it especially for you."

"I need it open. I need to say goodbye properly."

He nods and has another man open the front half of the coffin to reveal Peeta, flawlessly white with his blond-grey hair slicked back. They dressed him in his best and covered him in a sheet from what seems like his elbows down. His eyes are closed. He could be sleeping, but I know better.

I close my eyes and take my time between breaths. After a few minutes, I open my eyes and face the crowd. They stare at me, waiting. Nothing escapes my mouth and I look to the ground, where I find a single yellow dandelion next to my right foot. I kneel down and pick it up, perplexed by how much a simple weed could hold so much hope. I stand up again and hold onto the flower with my life.

"He was a painter, he was a baker. He liked to sleep with the windows open, he never took sugar in his tea, and he always double-knotted his shoelaces. There are many simple things that define my husband, but he was much more than that. He was my dandelion in the spring." I stare at the same flower in my hand. "The bright yellow that meant rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again.

"Peeta Mellark saved my life," I continue. "Once, when I was a little girl. The second time, when I was a tribute. And a third time, when I was the Mockingjay, and I wish I could have done the same for him. Peeta may be gone from this world, but I'll never forget him." I pause and look at the sleeping Peeta beside me. I notice tears are streaming down my face as I press the three middle fingers of my left hand to my lips and then hold them out to Peeta. My life with him flashes before my eyes and I smile. "I'll never forget the boy with the bread."

~~ _the end_ ~~

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